But in contrast to this appreciation is a remarkable indifference to certain foul odors.  It is amazing what horrid smells the cultivated Japanese will endure in his home.  What we conceal in the rear and out of the way, he very commonly places in the front yard; though this is, of course, more true of the country than of large towns or cities.  It would seem as if a high aesthetic development should long ago have banished such sights and smells.  As a matter of fact, however, the aesthetics of the subject does not seem to have entered the national mind, any more than have the hygienics of the same subject.

In explanation of these facts, may it not be that the Japanese method of agriculture has been a potent hindrance to the aesthetic development of the sense of smell?  In primitive times, when wealth was small, the only easy method which the people had of preserving the fertilizing properties of that which is removed from our cities by the sewer-system was such as we still find in use in Japan to-day.  Perhaps the necessities of the case have toughened the mental, if not the physical, sense of the people.  Perhaps the unaesthetic character of the sights and smells has been submerged in the great value of fertilizing materials.  Then, too, with the Occidental, the thought is common that such odors are indications of seriously unhealthful conditions.  We are accordingly offended not simply by the odor itself, but also by the associations of sickness and death which it suggests.  Not so the unsophisticated Oriental.  Such a correlation of ideas is only now arising in Japan, and changes are beginning to be made, as a consequence.

I cannot leave this point without drawing attention to the fact that the development of the sense of smell in these directions is relatively recent, even in the West.  Of all the non-European nations and races, I have no doubt Japan is most free from horrid smells and putrid odors.  And in view of our own recent emancipation it is not for us to marvel that others have made little progress.  Rather is it marvelous that we should so easily forget the hole from which we have been so recently digged.

In turning to study certain features of Japanese pictorial art, we notice that a leading characteristic is that of simplicity.  The greatest results are secured with the fewest possible strokes.  This general feature is in part due to the character of the instrument used, the “fude,” “brush.”  This same brush answers for writing.  It admits of strong, bold outlines; and a large brush allows the exhibition of no slight degree of skill.  As a result, “writing” is a fine art in Japan.  Hardly a family that makes any pretense at culture but owns one or more framed specimens of writing.  In Japan these rank as pictures do or mottoes in the West, and are prized not merely for the sentiment expressed, but also for the skill displayed in the use of the brush.  Skillful writers become famous, often receiving large sums for small “pictures” which consist of but two or three Chinese characters.